


I Owed Her

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone Two (The 2nd 100) [40]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 16:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: A favour is repaid, much to Illya's annoyance.





	I Owed Her

The morning hadn’t been going well for Illya. His alarm had failed to go off, meaning he had to miss taking a shower, lest he be late for work. He hoped he’d be able to find time once he was at the office. Arriving with only a few minutes to spare, the last thing Illya needed was an over-friendly receptionist.

“Good Morning, Mr Kuryakin,” Betsy greeted enthusiastically. “And thank you so, so much.”

Contrary to the norm, she reached over and attached his badge, despite him holding a hand out to take it from her. Every woman who worked on reception had learned that Illya didn’t like people in his personal space. Unlike Napoleon, who always thrust his chest out, and kept his hands out of the way.

“Morning, Miss Warren” Illya grunted, puzzled as to why she was thanking him.

“I just couldn’t believe it when Napoleon told me,” she continued. “I was stupefied. Who would have thought I would ever get the chance?”

“Told you w. . .?” Illya tried to interrupt, but couldn’t stop the words gushing from the excitable woman.

“I have the perfect dress,” Betsy went on, entirely unimpeded by Illya’s attempt to speak. “It is a deep red, floor length, and with a low cut back. I hope that you’ll like it. I think you will.”

“Miss Warren!” he said firmly.

The woman finally stopped talking.

“Why are you thanking me?” he asked.

.......................................................................................................................................

“Good morning, Tovarisch,” Napoleon greeted his partner as he entered the office.

Being engrossed in signing off several piles of reports, he failed to see the look of absolute thunder on the Russian’s face. It was only after he didn’t receive a response that he looked up. These days it was rare for the patented Kuryakin stare to have any effect on Solo, but this was one of those rare days. Napoleon could practically see ice forming in the brilliant blue irises.

“How are you?” he asked, and offered his most charming smile.

“Apparently I have a date with Betsy Warren this evening,”

The edge to Illya’s voice could have cut through steel.

“Ah, she told you.”

“She is very excited,” Illya replied. “Care to explain?”

“I owed her,” Napoleon said, holding his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. “She helped me to catch up with my paperwork that backlogged while you were laid up in medical.”

“It is your paperwork, you could always do it yourself,” Illya pointed out. “None of this goes any way to explaining why I am taking her on a date tonight.”

“I asked her how I could repay her, thinking she’d want a night of dinner and dancing with me,” Solo told him. “Turns out that all she wanted was one date with you.”

Illya ran his hands through his hair; a clear indicator to Napoleon that the man was not happy. He was glad there was a desk between them.

“Would it not have been prudent to inform me, before arranging it with her?” the Russian asked.

“You would have said no,” Napoleon answered. “I also know that, despite this whole ‘Ice Prince’ thing you’ve got going on, you are one of nature’s gentlemen. Therefore, you wouldn’t let her down. Don’t you like her?”

“She is nice enough,” Illya conceded.

“So you’ll do it?”

Illya stared at his partner for an uncomfortably long time, attempting to send a silent message that he would not forgive, or forget him for this.

“Very well,” Illya surrendered. “But don’t expect me to use my own money.”

He held his hand out as an invitation for Napoleon to get out his wallet. The American did so, and pulled out a few large bills. He laid them on his friend’s palm, but Illya didn’t move. He handed over two more, but this was also not enough. In the end, he gave him the whole wallet. Illya took out all the bills, replaced $30, and handed the wallet back.

“I’m taking Danielle out tonight,” Napoleon protested.

“Then I hope she likes inexpensive dates,” Illya replied coldly, before leaving the office.

In the corridor, he stuffed the cash into his own wallet and grinned. When Betsy had told him he was taking her dinner, he had been quite put out. However, after thinking about it, he began to look forward to it. 

Not that he was ever going to let Napoleon know that, or get away with such underhandedness.


End file.
